


Every Last Day

by archnemesis



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Backstory: Jack Harkness, Canon Backstory, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archnemesis/pseuds/archnemesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Captain Jack Harkness is trapped in a dance hall in the year 1941, he meets the real Captain Jack Harkness. The Torchwood leader adopts the alias Captain James Harper and, making the most of his predicament, shakes up more than the dance floor. The story is told from the real Captain Jack's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laced Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This used to be posted on FF.net, but I recently edited it and decided to move it here.

He had watched comrades crumple and bombs explode. He had traveled across the sky. He had been bustled on and off trains as his duty station changed endlessly and, in each new location, he'd been able to move on. He’d lived through life changing situations. This wasn’t going to be one of those. It shamed him that something so tiny was eating him up and tearing him apart. How could this simple regret be worse than the battlefield?

He should have gone home with her. He hadn’t though. He should have been looking after his men, making sure they weren't so drunk they couldn't stand when morning came, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was trying desperately to keep his focus on his own glass. Anything to distract him from eyeing the man he'd come back for, the man he wanted to talk to all night, the man he'd locked fingers with only minutes before. Jealousy shot through him as Captain James Harper clutched Toshiko's bandaged hand. 

"Captain Jack?" 

He drifted from his fantasies back to the boisterous dance hall. Only after the third call did he hear one of his young soldiers prompting him. The boy’s girlfriend watched him with filmy, civilian eyes, her chin propped in her hands. 

"Yes?" Captain Jack smiled and ran a hand over his slicked-down hair, hoping to keep himself from glancing over at Captain Harper’s table yet again. 

"I was just telling Sarah here about that story you like to rile us up with before we go up in the air. How many was it you killed, Captain?" 

"Seven in five minutes, but we're going to have to do better than that if we want this war to end anytime soon." His answer sounded flat even to him. Jack's arm dropped to his side and for a second he could feel Captain Harper's eyes on him, hot and intent. Quite a contrast compared to the dull, disappointed faces of his present companions. 

"Of course, Captain. You'll see. We'll tire 'em out soon enough." 

The woman whispered in the young soldier’s ear, and the two fled to the dance floor. Captain Jack Harkness found himself without a distraction once more. These inner struggles were the fights he liked least. Give him an opponent to fight any day, not these invisible foes battering him from within. In here, Jack had no devil on his shoulder; no enemy pilot flying straight for him. There was just the dance hall and his beating heart urging him onward, even when his mind told him to leap into his airplane and head straight for the enemy. 

Between all their battle talk, his eyes constantly looking out for anyone approaching, and his frightened mind nagging him about his “unnatural urges,” he'd wasted so much time. He'd watched his men come to terms with the possibility of their worlds ending. Captain Jack saw how immediately they sidled up to the nearest woman and snogged until their lips were sore and puffy. He saw how quickly they abandoned their chivalry and with greedy hands lost themselves to animal instinct. Why couldn't he do the same? Perhaps he’d been like that once. Now he wasn’t so daring. Of all things, why had he laced hands with Captain Harper? They should have just snogged. At the least, Jack should have hugged him. But lacing hands? Laced hands weren't enough. No, laced hands wouldn't do. 

'Live every day like it's your last,' the man had said. Captain Jack was scared. He was so scared. Everything Captain Harper told him made Jack want to tuck his tail between his legs and run. The only reason he remained at all was the question so painful thrown before him: what if this was his last night? What if the war ended for him tonight? Jack tried to focus on the dancers but they were just shadows to him. They were ghosts and he was frightened that he would soon join them. 

Captain Jack's heart pounded and his hands were shaking. He needed peace. He needed to calm himself. In the chaos of the room, the fast-paced dancing, the bellowing laughter, the jaunty music, there was only one place where he could seek solace. His eyes drifted once again to Captain Harper. His hands, his smile, his eyes. Captain Jack smoothed his uniform out and stood as proud as he could. He was a captain after all. The song ended and the table was momentarily blocked from his view. Jack closed his eyes. A new song began and with a deep breath, Jack pushed himself off the wall and started across the dance floor.


	2. Daring Dancers

He wished he'd been too terrified to move. Jack moved through the swaying couples in the same trance he slipped into when his plane swept off the ground. He moved from side to side with them, trying to find the most direct path to the table. His eyes locked with Captain James' every time the dancers parted. There was such sadness, such longing trapped in those eyes. He couldn’t hide in the midst of his soldiers talking strategy when someone displayed such distress. His soldiers would understand that afterwards, if they didn’t understand anything else. Wouldn’t he have wanted the same treatment if he had appeared so hurt? What Captain Jack failed to realize, however, was that the same sentiments had been reflected in his own eyes all night and no one, not even Captain James, had cracked the soldier’s barriers completely.

By the time he zigzagged to the other side of the dance floor, the song had ended and the floor stopped swaying as the couples giggled and chattered before exerting themselves again. Captain Jack adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves and gradually his eyes drifted from the floor to Captain Harper. Behind him the music swelled with notes long and slow, and the singer's melancholy voice bore into him. What if this was his last day? What was he going to do to make this day last long after his body rotted in the ground and the moss wore away at his headstone? As soon as Captain Harper had entered the dance hall, he'd felt a twinge from his heart. Granted, he’d felt twinges in his heart for many people, but he’d left his girl to spend more time with Captain Harper. That was different, if nothing else. Why was it that when he'd shook the man's hand he'd not wanted to let go of it? Who better to memorialize his last day than a stranger who wore the sadness Jack felt in his bones on his face?

He closed his eyes again and let out a ragged sigh. Jack glanced back at the group of men trading stories. Did they need him half as much as he needed them? His sadness rested on him, trapped in his uniform, but he refused to retreat. He took one step, then another, and at last he reached the table, his hand outstretched for Captain James'. Toshiko watched him lead her companion away without a second thought. Jack would make sure to thank her for that later. 

It felt so good to hold his hand again. He felt the childish delight of finding his mother's hand again after he thought he'd lost her in the grocery store. Captain Jack led him to the middle of the dance floor amidst the gawking faces of the couples. He heard whispers, disgust. Let them talk. He'd deal with the consequences later, but for now, he’s treat this as if it were his last day. His eyes never moved from Captain James' face. There was only the moment that had been stolen from them earlier.

The firm and commanding arm that twined around his waist and pulled him in seemed somehow gentle and almost fragile. Their lives were filled with war and screams and battles. Captain James Harper. The name rolled on his quiet tongue so elegantly he felt ashamed of his own choppy dark-sounding name repeated back. Captain Jack focused on his feet, tripping out of rhythm, until a firm pressure under his chin forced him to make eye contact again. He suppressed a contented sigh and wrapped his arm around his partner's neck. Captain James smiled sadly and gripped him tighter. Jack said nothing. Even though he knew Captain James would have a practical explanation for it, he couldn’t prevent himself from questioning whether Captain James knew more about the battle tomorrow than he was letting on. Instead of delving, he settled into the steps of the dance and tried not to contemplate what kissing Captain James would be like.


End file.
